Amore and Pinot Grigio - a Guido la Vespa Christmas Tale [Guido la Vespa] (BookStrand Publishing Mainstream)

by Bell, Veronica

  “What are you saying? You thought I was going to end things with you?”

  “Yes. Weren’t you?”

  “No.”

  “That errand you went to run, that wasn’t to go and steal some time with Flavia?”

  “Dio, no! That errand was to go and pick up some of our best Pinot Grigio for you, as well as your Christmas present. A friend of mine who is a very good jeweller was making a special necklace for you. I was also going to pick that up so that I could present them to you together. Don’t you remember I promised you some of our best Pinot Grigio so that you would stop buying that terrible boxed wine?”

  “Yes, I remember.”

  “I always keep my promises, even when crazy Canadian ladies run away. So if you would like it, I’ve got a crate of our family Pinot Grigio for you as well as your necklace. The wine is out in the hallway. The necklace is in my pocket.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Yes, very seriously.”

  “How did you get in here with that crate of wine without buzzing?”

  “Your Sicilian neighbours. I ran into them outside. They are great romantics. I told them I was your boyfriend and that I loved you and had to see you and bring you these Christmas gifts. They let me in without hesitation.”

  “You said you lov…loved me?”

  “Yes.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Yes, very seriously.”

  “But I mean, did you mean what you said to them or was it just a way to get into the building?”

  “Now who is the cynical one? I meant what I said. And it was also a way to get into the building.”

  “But I don’t understand. You seemed to change when you saw Flavia and you were so grim about us having to have a talk and I just assumed…”

  “You just assumed the wrong thing. And maybe I shouldn’t have asked you to leave when Flavia was there, but I saw no reason to embarrass her by asking her to leave and stay away forever with a crowd around. I knew, as soon as I saw her there, that you were the only woman for me. I think I even knew that before I saw her, but I didn’t want to face it, to take a risk with my heart. That is what I wanted to talk to you about last night. I had always thought that if Flavia ever wanted me back, I would run back to her, but when I saw her I knew that you had changed my life forever, and for the better. And what’s more is, I realized that any desire I may have had in the past to hurt Flavia had disappeared.”

  Just like me with Doug, Sandro is over Flavia.

  “Do you know that, after you left the room, Flavia and I were in the sitting room with the cats and she referred to them as ‘flea-bags’? Well, I got mad at her. And she said that I was turning into my father, all silly and sentimental, as though that were a bad thing. If I had any doubts about how wrong she was for me and how right you are, they disappeared in that instant, though I really don’t think I had any doubts.”

  “And that is what you wanted to say to me?”

  “Yes.”

  “So why did you look so miserable?”

  “Well, I had just rejected Flavia and while I knew it was the right thing to do, it did not make me feel good to hurt her.”

  Sigrid thought again about Doug, about her email to him and understood.

  “And there was something else, Sigrid. I wanted to know if you would reconsider our pact and I was not sure how you would react.”

  “Our pact?”

  “Yes, our agreement about a no-strings relationship, just for fun and sex. Would you reconsider the terms of our pact?”

  “Seriously?”

  “Yes, very seriously.”

  “Would I reconsider those terms in exchange for what?”

  “Would you reconsider them in exchange for a committed, long-term relationship with great sex and great love?”

  “Seriously?”

  “Yes, ver—Seegreed, what is your answer?”

  “Hmm. Yes, I think that sounds like a fair exchange. And almost as good a Christmas present as the wine.”

  “Almost? Sigrid.” He laughed, grabbing her for a kiss. “Sigrid. I love you, cara.”

  “I love you, too. Now, how about bringing in that wine and showing me that necklace?”

  Sandro pulled a narrow box out of his jacket pocket and handed it to Sigrid. Inside was a white gold chain with two charms on it—one in the shape of a Vespa, one in the shape of a cat. The cat had small sapphires for eyes.

  “Sandro, I…this is stunning. I don’t know what to say.”

  He put his fingers on her lips. “Just say you like it.”

  “I can’t say I like it, because I love it.”

  “I told my friend that a cat brought us together and that we both love our Vespas. And I had him give the cat sapphires for eyes, because your eyes are like sapphires,” said Sandro, as he put the necklace around Sigrid’s neck.

  Sigrid giggled. “Sorry Sandro, I shouldn’t laugh, but when men say stuff like ‘your eyes are like sapphires’ we North American women just want to laugh.”

  “I know, I know. You think it is silly. Well, how would you feel if I said you reminded me of the Canadian wilderness?”

  “I’d feel glad I currently don’t have any liquid in my mouth because I would snort it out my nose from laughing! The Canadian wilderness? Me? Have you ever visited the Canadian wilderness?”

  “No, but I can imagine it.”

  “You want to know a secret? I haven’t visited the Canadian wilderness, either. In fact, most Canadians haven’t. Most of us live in urban areas and stay the heck away from the great white north—too many mosquitoes!”

  “This is another reason I love you. I learn so much from you—you enrich my life in countless ways.”

  “Thank you, and the feeling is mutual. So, Sandro. The wine?”

  “Patience, Sigrid! There is one more gift I have brought you, but you must come outside to see it.”

  “Okay, let me get a sweater.”

  Outside of the B&B’s front door, Sigrid saw Guido la Vespa, in all his pink glory, waiting for her, his little rear-view mirrors almost looking like a smile.

  “How did you manage this? He’s supposed to be at Santa Maria Novella.”

  “Let me explain and you will see that there was some good fortune involved. Last night, when I saw that you had gone and that Guido was gone, too, well, I was shocked, I didn’t know where to begin looking for you.”

  “I’m sorry, I feel awful.”

  “No, no, do not do that to yourself. Just let me finish. My father suggested calling hotels or taking the Lancia into Florence and just looking for you at the station or the airport and so that was what I was getting ready to do, when the phone rang. It was someone at the station, a teller or a luggage attendant, I guess. He called and said that there was a foreign, very pretty blonde woman who had just taken a train to Rome and that she seemed upset and that perhaps that would interest me. He said she had left her Vespa in storage.”

  Sigrid thought of nosy Niccolo. “Did he say his name?”

  “Yes, Niccolo.”

  “Yes, that was him! But I didn’t tell him where I had been staying.”

  “You must have.”

  “I’m sure I didn’t.”

  “Well, look, you simply must have. Anyway, I went to the station and arranged to have Guido delivered to your front door, via moving van. I followed behind, in the Lancia.”

  “But Guido is mine, I mean, I filled out the forms and so forth and why on earth would they just let you take him?”

  “My family is very powerful and well-known in the region around Florence,” Sandro said with some pride and a smile. “We employ many and are fair bosses and businessmen. We are also trustworthy and would never take someone else’s property without a good intention.”

  “I don’t doubt it,” said Sigrid. “So did you meet Niccolo? He was kind of adorable.”

  “This is the part of the story that bothers me. I wanted to find him, to thank him and tip him generously, but when I asked at th
e station I was told no such person existed. There was no employee at Santa Maria Novella named Niccolo.”

  “What? But I met him!”

  “I know. And I spoke to him on the phone. So who knows?”

  “He told me he was a friend who wanted me to have love and happiness. He said I should just think of him as the Christmas Spirit. Can you imagine?”

  “Well then, that is who he was and we should not worry about it.”

  “Okay,” muttered Sigrid, knowing she would always wonder, if not worry, about it.

  “Cara, it is chilly. Let us go back to your room.”

  Once back indoors, Sigrid hesitated. “Sandro, I have something for you.” She looked anxious.

  “What is it, cara?”

  “It’s just that the Christmas gift I had planned to give to you is really nothing next to what you have brought me. I mean, I’m embarrassed. Even before seeing the necklace, and seeing what you’ve done for me bringing Guido back, I was worried about giving it to you in front of your family. I thought they would think it was silly or sentimental or cheap.”

  “Stop it! They are not like that. And my father is the King of Sentimental. No, make that the Emperor!”

  “I know, but I worry.”

  “Why don’t you let me be the judge of what is a worthy gift? I am sure it is unique and will mean the world to me, because the person who got it for me is both of those things.”

  Sigrid went over to her still unpacked bag and retrieved her gift for Sandro.

  It was a framed photograph she had taken of Pinot Grigio in his new home. Though now three-legged, he looked healthy, well-loved and very comfortable on the expensive cat bed his new owner, the veterinary technician, had bought him.

  “Ma cara, how did you manage this? This is…sei una gioia! You are a joy! This is our friend, yes?”

  “Yes, it’s Pinot Grigio. A few days ago, I contacted the lady who adopted him and asked if I could come out to her house and see him. She allowed me to photograph him and then I went to a vintage store and found this frame. It’s from the 1930s. I thought it was pretty.”

  “And so it is. But what I like most of all is the picture inside the frame, for without this little creature, we would never have met.”

  “I’ll drink to that,” said Sigrid.

  “Then I guess I had better go out into the hallway and get that wine.”

  He did just that, and over spaghetti primavera and some fine Pinot Grigio, they toasted Pinot Grigio and Niccolo, the Christmas Spirit, and, of course, Guido la Vespa.

  Chapter Ten

  Just under a year later, Mr. and Mrs., or rather, Signor e Signora Totti had unpacked their last box in their new home in the Trastevere quarter of Rome.

  “We may be unpacked,” said Sigrid, “but I don’t think this place is ready for dinner guests, or for our new family members yet, do you?”

  “Not quite, no, at least not for my parents, but we can go see them at the restaurant now that our unpacking is done. I don’t know if I can wait much longer to bring Luigi and Robertina into our lives, though. Can you?”

  “I know what you mean. The poor things are probably tired of being in a cage. So what are you saying?”

  Sandro held his arms open. “Come here, tesoro.” She did. “I’m saying that we have so much love we need to start sharing it soon, or we’ll explode. And cats don’t care whether the phone or internet or cable is installed. They have better values than that.”

  “True enough. So let’s go get them in the morning.”

  “That sounds like a plan.”

  Luigi was a brown tabby with a neurological disorder that made him walk with a permanent limp, but other than that he was in great health. When Sandro and Sigrid first saw him in the adoption room of the Torre Argentina cat shelter, they were told that no one wanted him because of the funny way he walked.

  “Who cares how he walks?” said Sandro. “He’s so handsome, like me!”

  Sigrid had rolled her eyes, though she agreed.

  Robertina was a cat they had found on the street, again behind La Capanna. She was tiny, all black, and desperately in need of de-worming and de-fleaing, but once that was done, she was certain to make a loving addition to whatever lucky household was smart enough to welcome her. Sigrid and Sandro had trapped her and handed her over to a local veterinarian for care, on the promise they would cover the bills and adopt her as soon as she was ready. She had been declared ready three days ago, but there had still been unpacking to do.

  The couple had had a wonderful year together, first becoming engaged and then with Sandro visiting Canada to meet Sigrid’s family.

  “You see, honey?” said Sigrid’s mother. “I told you a wonderful Italian man with a castle would sweep you off your feet.”

  “It’s not a castle, Mom. It’s an estate, and a vineyard, and a restaurant.”

  They burst out laughing.

  “Oh sweetie, I am so happy for you. But we’re going to miss you.”

  “We’re going to miss you, too. I hope you’ll come and visit us, though. And you know you and dad have a standing offer to live with us. We mean it.”

  “I know, but my friends are here and your siblings are here, dear.”

  “I understand.”

  “But you know we’ll visit. Your father wants to shop in Italy. He wants to learn how to wear a scarf like an Italian man.”

  “Dad’s very odd.”

  “You’ve inherited that from him, honey. I’m just glad you have found someone to appreciate it.”

  “Thanks, Mom, I think. And yes, I’m with you on that last point.”

  Sigrid and Sandro were married in April, in Rome. Sandro’s entire family and some of Sigrid’s were there. Friends from the animal hospital they had gone to that first night, as well as the Torre Argentina cat shelter, attended. The Palumbos were there, the staff of La Capanna, and, of course, Guido La Vespa and his big brother, the Vespone, who still did not have a name.

  THE END

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Veronica Bell lives outside of Rome, Italy, with her handsome husband and wonderful pets. She has way too many university degrees, far too powerful a sweet tooth, too limited a wardrobe and too few bookshelves. Originally from Vancouver, Canada, she has camped in the Himalayas, attended a spiritual retreat in South Korea, gone on a bike tour of Germany’s Ruhr Valley, and a wine-tasting tour of France’s Alsace region. She cannot cook all that well but she is a mean seamstress and an even meaner housekeeper. Amore and Pinot Grigio is her first romance for BookStrand. She hopes to write more.

  www.BookStrand.com